severe has been my punishment for one act of disobedience!"—He advanced hastily to the bed, withdrew the pall, and saw a face from which death had excluded no trait of mild benevolence; the features were placid and serene, yet Ferdinand thought, on a near investigation, that an air of sorrow was diffused over the countenance, and that the very serenity wore more the face of pious resignation than perfect content. He gazed with inexpressible sensations, threw himself on his knees in an agony of grief:—"O, father, ever revered and beloved! forgive your unhappy son, let not my offence be remembered against me in the land of spirits; for, oh! severe has been my punishment, misery has followed hard upon my disobedience!"
His head fell upon the bed, and he wept aloud; but his almost stagnated senses were instantly recalled by a deep and heavy groan that vibrated to his heart: He started up, and eagerly gazed on the lifeless body, all was
